Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Poetic T Jul 7
A thousand strands of
       beautiful woven death.

Though they hang like
           silk nets holding

the suffocating twine of eternity.

Each one is eventually severed,
       and bleached filaments

gather below, static and devoid
                            of deaths adulation.

What was well kept,  is now
            discontinued echoes.

No longer the adulation of

      just void less inconsequence.
malluraeh Mar 31
sometimes old love,
never went away.

oftentimes it's still there,
but the love is bent and
s e v e r e d.
Brittany Hall Jan 24
Slander me, expose me; tell them who I really am.
No one can handle me, or control me; I know who I really am.
Disregard all of my endless efforts,
To keep our bond from being severed.
Fighting off the wild dogs,
While you were sleeping in the fog.
Struggling to keep our sails afloat,
You sat pretty and watched me choke.
When I decided it was time to let go,
You didn't take the ropes, you just let the wind blow.
Held on so tight for so long; my hands are bleeding.
The saltwater stings but it's also healing.
Still, I'll take another sip; it keeps me alive,
Even though it slowly kills me at the same time.
Slowly but surely; my favourite way to die.
I savour the taste of every single tear that I cry.
Can't you see these reactions, or hear the words that I've said?
Due to your actions and the words I've been fed.
I loved you so much, I would die for you.
You loved it so much, you'd let me die for you too.
Some people give, and some people take,
And when it's love, it's both hearts that break.
Nylee Jan 2018
This is not living what I really do
when I count all the days to go
it is easier to forget when I sleep
but when the sun passes through the window
it comes back faster than I can blink
the two decades have been enough for me
how many more will I have to see
Everything comes and go, nothing remains
there is uncertainty in all the lanes
More steps ahead, I go beyond
towards the neighbouring severed bonds.
eleanor prince Jan 2018
eye of storm
feels good
inanely safe

cloak of unreality
supplanting sense
as trap shuts

butterfly hovers
in silken web

rests stupidly
while harm beckons

illusions numb

battle weary
instincts spent
on long haul

gusts of
warning winds

as incongruent
unworthy of note

but sword will drop
mayhem eclipse
former state

past suspension

as raw reality
severs dreams

to beguiling
beware the weariness that eclipses knowing... and reason... it will exact a price
Josh Overson Dec 2017
I am.
Out, left rotted and weathered.
Confused and terrored.
Heart loosened and severed.
I am no better.  
Just feeling lesser.  
As time goes by...
And I open my eyes...
Fist start to fly...
Hitting walls and doors
I fall to the floor
I can give no more
My heart won't explore
You'll always have mine...
**But I'll never have yours.
I'm dumb.
My heart beats to a drum with no rhythm.
Poetic T Sep 2017
Ligaments are folly for the static movements
that I tender on the world around me.
I'm a puppet that has had its strings severed.

No longer will I stand before a crowd admiring
the swag of free motivation. Now I'm but a flawed
puppet with my useless severed strings lingering.

Once upon a time I was  a puppet and I pulled all
my own strings... But now I'm gathering
dust in my self  pity, and my strings are now cut.

But even though they are severed, and no longer
dance to my own tunes. I'm no weaker than before!
I'm stronger within myself, I may have fallen but got up.

"We are stronger than we think,
"We just have to pick ourselves up.
           *"For we are our own weight, that only we can pick up.
Lady Bird Dec 2016
singing her melodies of torment
hiding in a chamber of lead
awakened and degenerated
yet no one seemed to care
left lies and lost love
pulling the final thread
the heaven's bled a river of red
from the fall of her severed head
Nora Feb 2016
You’re probably sitting now
With a glass of cabernet
Sprawled on the couch
Reflecting on your day
Maybe the TV
Is humming along
Singing its song
So you don’t have to
Listen to yours.

You’re heavy with
Loneliness and those
guilty pleasures --
candies --
That you hide
A nervous addiction
Even though you write it out
In wrappers.

I know I do not fail
To flummox you
You hide it well
But I still see through
“The line’s always open,”
is the urging
Too bad I already
Blew out the fuse

— The End —